


Morning Glory

by leiascully



Series: The Agency [2]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spy, Community: smut_tuesdays, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-03
Updated: 2007-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-03 06:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't until after he eased into the spa that he realized Cuddy was there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: AU  
> A/N: Here you go, [**queenzulu**](http://queenzulu.livejournal.com/). Thanks to [**asynca**](http://asynca.livejournal.com/) for some fine research and to [**deadparrot**](http://deadparrot.livejournal.com/) and [**savemoony**](http://savemoony.livejournal.com/) for encouragement. Happy Smut Tuesday! I wanted to put in fireworks in celebration of the Fourth of July, but maybe next time, eh?  
> Disclaimer: _House M.D._ and all related characters are the property of Shore Z, Bad Hat Harry, and Fox. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

He woke up at four thirty with his leg throbbing. Cuddy was sleeping beside him, her arm flung over his chest and her bare skin like hot silk. He skimmed his fingers over her back and she murmured but didn't wake.

"Some spy you are," he stage-whispered, but she just dug her head further into the pillow. He reached for his cane and dragged himself out of bed to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror as he relieved the pressure of his bladder. He needed a shower. He needed to move. He needed some pills, too. He dug into his Dopp kit and uncapped the bottle with one thumb. Two pills chased each other down his throat without the swallow of water to ease them. He was getting older and it wasn't as pleasant a process as he'd hoped.

He eyed the shower, but the side of the tub was a little high for comfort, and the porcelain looked slippery. Pool it was, then. He needed to move and pacing wasn't going to help much. For one thing, enough circuits of the room and Cuddy might wake up: afterglow or not, he didn't think she'd appreciate being roused at this hour, and her tendency towards destructive courses of action under these circumstances were legendary. He fished a pair of trunks out of his bag (God, he missed the days he could have just hit the pavement and worn a few miles' worth of rubber off his sneakers) and limped down to the pool. A quick icy spray from the outdoor shower and he was leaving his cane on a chair and slipping into the water, which was thankfully warmer than the drops cooling on his body.

The pool wasn't really deep enough, but at least it was large, and he swam the longest laps he could manage before his toes scraped the tiles and he had to head back to the other end. The darkness hung heavy and damp over the pool like the beginning of a bad horror novel, but the water was clear and bright and the lights on the walls of the pool cast a shimmer over everything. He cut pretty cleanly through the water, his leg loosening. After forty minutes or so of back and forth, the sky was lightening around the edges. He dragged himself out of the pool and hobbled to the spa, which was bubbling away.

It wasn't until after he eased into the spa that he realized Cuddy was there, in a white bikini that he was pretty sure hadn't been among the things she'd left in his room. Clever one.

"How long have you been here?" he asked quietly, his fingers kneading his leg. The heat of the water eased the ache in the muscle, but it was an old habit.

"Long enough," she said, ridiculously pert for shading into six in the morning. The lights in the spa made her collarbones and her cheeks look sharp, and she had a rosy flush from the heat. Her hair was up, but little ringlets fell around her face. The white bikini looked good on her. He could see the heart-shaped scar on her shoulder and the assorted other scars on her ribs and hip, distorted from the water. But those were from when Wilson went down, and he didn't want to think about it. He was feeling better about her, but there was still a long store of bad memories, things they'd gone through together and years they hadn't seen each other.

"You know," she said in that low hypnotic voice, "this doesn't have to end when we go back."

"Pretty sure we have to get out of this thing at some point," he retorted, stretching his arms out along the sides and straightening his leg so that it lay against hers, his foot propped on the seat.

"Not what I meant," she said, lips pursed in what he'd always found to be an attractive way.

"I know." He watched her shift. Her breasts looked particularly nice, half-buoyed by the bubbling water. She smirked at him, knowing he was looking. He was warm from the exercise and warm from the spa, and the bubbles kept going up his shorts, and he wanted her. She arched her back, lifting her breasts from the water. Her nipples were hard buds under the fabric of the bikini. He amused himself by imagining he could see the shadow of her areolae as she tipped her head back.

"I meant us," she said. "Sex."

"I know."

"Might as well," she said, turning her face to look at the sunrise. She was beautiful in the half-light of the rising sun and the glint of the spa, nearly surreal. She'd made it her profession to be alluring, but it wasn't all artifice. She sighed, her eyes very blue and bright. "We're not getting any younger. No one else is going to have us."

"The day you retire is the day we're all in trouble," he quipped.

"As if either of us are in the field anymore," she pointed out.

"Willing to seal the deal?" he asked. "Nobody out here. Highly romantic, dawn in a hot tub. Two aging agents with nowhere to be until the poker games start again tonight."

"You already knew I was willing," she murmured, pushing off her side of the tub and straddling him. The bottom of her bikini was floating in the water, though he hadn't seen her take it off, and she had his trunks worked down almost before he noticed. Suddenly the world was hotter and tighter than it had been and he groaned a little.

"You are...extremely good at what you do," he got out.

"We each have our specialty," she whispered, her lips close to his ear. "Not everyone can be a bitter misanthrope."

"Lucky for you I'm not a misogynist," he said, gripping her hips. She was sliding against him and the morning was warm and bright. A breeze swept across them and she shivered a little. He spread his hands over her back, steam rising off his fingers and her shoulderblades. The water sloshed around them and he felt like he was sloshing too, back and forth with her movements. He nudged at her face with his chin until she turned her face to his and he could kiss her. There was a flicker of movement at the corner of his eye.

"Better hurry," he urged her, nipping at her throat. "Honest citizens wanting their poolside bagel soon." She bore down and squeezed him somehow so that he groaned again. "Christ, woman, you're a succubus."

"You asked," she said, moving faster, and he couldn't tell whether the heat was his own or the water or the sudden blaze of the sun as it heaved over the horizon. Sweat beaded on his face. He brushed his raspy cheek across her fair one and felt the dampness there as she hummed her own pleasure. He was looking at the sun but he couldn't seem to look away and everything was bright and hot and liquid and he could feel his balls tightening against the rumpled fabric of his trunks; Cuddy reached to touch herself and rocked and gasped and whispered encouragement with her face buried against his neck, and he dissolved into the water, hips heaving.

When he could see again, she was climbing out of the spa, her bikini back on. She tugged at his arm. "Come on. Can't have you getting overheated."

"I like it here," he complained, clambering awkwardly onto the pool deck. "Just order me a bagel."

"I've got a better idea," she said, handing over his cane. "Room service, champagne, and air conditioning."

"The more time I spend around you, the more I believe you earned those promotions," he said, leaning on his cane and offering her his other arm. She took it with a sly smile.

"How humbling that must be for you."

"Yeah, you wish," he said, and they went into the hotel.


End file.
